Ashes like snow
by Shaera Lynn
Summary: She's a mother to two boys. She should rise above the constant goading, the constant childish remarks and arguments. But she doesn't, in hopes that it will hide feelings deeper than she can afford to reveal. Because when the two of them come together, it's like oil and water, and the people around them get the feeling that this is what happens when a tornado and a volcano meet.


**Hey guys! So, I've been itching to write (or continue to write) an SVU story. I've had a couple of stories floating in my head, posted a couple too before deleting them, I swear, I'll try my best not to do the same with this one. I've combined two of my most favorite stories and I think it works. Hopefully you guys think so too?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to SVU. I only own my characters :)**

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 **Chapter 1**

" _You can't blame the nuclear missile for going off after all its buttons have been pushed."_

 **-Emma Chase; Twisted**

A door is slammed, so hard that it makes the glass rattle and multiple heads snap up to stare curiously at the furious brunette, who storms away with a string of curses trailing behind her.

Their meetings always ends the same. Everybody in the office has gotten used to the fact that when they have a meeting, it's best to stay out of both their ways. As far as possible.

The brunette scrubs a hand through her hair, her hazel eyes practically spewing fire as her boots thud heavily on the tiled floor as she storms her way over to her best friends office, needing to vent before she explodes.

Usually she can keep herself calm and composed, but when she's in the same room with him, logic and reason goes flying and all she can see, all she can think, is murder.

She pushes past people, muttering 'sorry' as she does.

After a brief moment of clarity to stop at the receptionist in her rage driven mood, she finds herself flinging open the office door with grand effect, rushing over to the desk in the center of the much smaller office than the one she'd previously been in, without so much as a greeting to the woman sitting behind the big wooden desk, surrounded by mountains of paperwork.

"He is a supercilious, condescending..." The blond snaps her head up, her fingers that had been tapping on the keyboard of her laptop, comes to a sudden halt in surprise

"What on earth?" In retrospect, she maybe should have started with with a _'Hi, Rachel! How are you today?'_ but, in her defense, she's just been forced to endure an hour long meeting with Rafael Barba and right now, all common courtesy has taken a back seat, she needs to bitch

And curse.

And scream.

Possibly all three at once.

She throws herself down onto a chair with a heavy sigh, her friend gives her a worried look, "Kayla, are you alright?"

"No. No, I'm not; because he is a patronizing, pretentious, arrogant, pompous... feel free to stop me anytime if there is somewhere you need to be," She continues in a low growl with furious flicks of fingers that have seen way too many sessions of anxious nail chewing

Rachel listens intently to her vent for a few minutes, but then she tenses in her seat, her hands clench tightly together and if Mikayla had actually been paying attention to her body language, she would have noticed the change in her demeanor. But, instead, she continues while the blond mouths 'oh', before giving her a serious look, a blush creeping up her neckline, "Kayla, that's enough."

For a second, Mikayla stares at her in shock and she wants to tell her that she really wasn't serious about interrupting her much needed venting session, especially not after the meeting she's just had.

Until Rachel's eyes flicker to the door behind her and realization hits her like a freight train.

She swallows hard, "He's behind me, isn't he?" She whispers, resignation and embarrassment war for prominence.

Embarrassment comes out on top as the undisputed winner.

"He most certainly is," The man in question says coldly. There is no mistaking the disdain in his voice. Or the frost. She shivers, refusing to turn and acknowledge him until she is forced to.

He can't actually be upset at her for this though. They've never seen eye to eye and ever since the start, they have yet to be in same room for more than a minute, without either an argument breaking out or one of them making snide comments at the other

Her stubbornness finally kicks in and she squares her shoulders, "I wasn't talking about you," She retorts, deciding to brazen her way through this situation. The heat in her cheeks, however, tell a completely different story, "I was, in fact, talking about another self-important sycophant."

He rolled his eyes. She knows without turning around because that's something that he tends to do every two minutes or so whenever they talk. It's like he saves all his eye rolls just for her. She supposes she should feel honored?

She turns as much as is possible in the uncomfortable chair to fix him with her best glare. Something she likes to think that she's mastered thanks to being a mother for the past thirteen years, but he's not impressed. He never seems to be whenever she decides to challenge him. But that does not stop her from doing it and so, she jumps up so that she can look him in the eye properly.

Trying her damn best to glare him back down.

But he simply stares at her with that look that she's sure has made more than one criminal squirm in their seats. But not her, and most certainly, not in front of him. She decided the moment she met him, to never show any sort of weakness.

Because he is like a damn bloodhound, sniffing out any weak angle from which to attack.

The fact that he is nearly as tall as Michael makes her both angrier and nearly knocks her off of her feet at the exact same time, because the last thing she needs right now, is to be reminded of her dead brother, "I was, most certainly, not talking about you." She reiterates with little conviction

Why on earth does she care if he knows what she really thinks of him anyway?

"Good, then I won't have to waste my breathe insinuating that you are one of those women, who like to spend their oh so precious time gossiping away at the workplace." He steps into the office, his gate stiff, his shoulders, surprisingly broad for a bureaucrat, rigid with offended outrage, held at bay with icy control.

"Good, because I would have to ask you to step outside so we can settle this if you called into question anything of mine." She replies and reaches for her jacket. Noticing his quirked eyebrow, she shrugs, "What? I may be a psychiatrist, but it's the twenty first century, I can defend my own honor."

Again with the eye roll.

She grins at Rachel, trying her best to pretend that she isn't at all embarrassed and furious in equal measure, "I'll see you later, Rachel." She turns to leave but the pompous prick, who'd been the object of her venting just a few minutes before, is standing in front of the door, arms folded tightly across his chest, nose in the air.

Seriously, he needs to be skewered and put on a fire to roast slowly. And _extremely_ painfully. "You are quiet possibly the most irri-" She begins in a carefully modulated, if somewhat snide, voice. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tries to regain some semblance of what little grace she magically retained from her days of being tutored by her mother, even though what was _supposed_ to be her grand departure is now well, and truly, ruined.

After a few seconds of deep inhales and exaggerated exhales, she tries again, secretly delighting in the fact that her snide tone seems intent on remaining firmly in place, "ADA Barba, I'm sure it has escaped your notice, but, skinny as I may be, I still can't get through the door with you quiet literally _standing_ in the way."

A snort from Rachel is quickly swallowed up by a cough when his eyes flicker towards her, making Mikayla's all too ready smile come springing forth. She can't help but wonder, standing there with her hand on her hip and her booted toe tapping, how the good ADA would look with his carefully styled hair all mussed up and that damn stick out of his ass.

Which makes her want to scrub her brain out with a bottle of vodka for having any thoughts about his ass or any other parts of his anatomy. He's old enough to be her... well, thankfully, not her father but her brother perhaps...

Vodka.

Definitely.

Copious amounts.

 _Stat_.

"Such charming manners." He nods with a pitying smile, which is meant to annoy her, but instead, it makes her pinch his ass on her way out after he steps to the side.

The in drawn breath of outrage from the spiteful bastard, is music to her ears as she makes her way out of the building.

That the ass in question had been surprisingly firm, makes her decide that perhaps more than one bottle of vodka might be necessary to scrub that additional information from a brain already in crisis.

Unfortunately for her, she's a mother and vodka... is the last thing she can have on her mind right now. Wonderful.

 **… … … …**

Exhausted.

At the moment, that's the only word that she can pull from her brain to even begin to describe the day that she's had.

After her meeting with Rafael, and subsequent confrontational encounter with him, she had gone back to the precinct to discuss the current case with Sergeant Olivia Benson before heading to the store to get some groceries.

Now, she wants nothing more than to get home, spend some time with her boys before crawling into her bed and disappearing from the world for a few hours.

Walking into her apartment, "Hey, Grace! Hey boys!" She calls out, heading towards her small kitchen after locking the door behind her again

Grace's head pops around the corner and she smiles "How was work?"

"Exhausting as usual. Where are the boys?"

Grace, her elderly next door neighbor sighs, waving her hand towards the ceiling "Playing on the roof, don't worry I made sure they finished their homework."

"Thanks." Unpacking the groceries from the packets, Kayla sets to work putting them away

"I let them be up there, I didn't really want to be in the way."

"Grace, you're never in the way. You know that." Kayla scolds lightly, giving the elderly woman a fond look

"So, you remember Anne-Marie, right?" The Doctor nods, scrubbing a hand through her dark hair "Well, her youngest son is coming home. She showed me a picture. Very handsome!" She sing songs

"Bloody hell, you and Rachel both." Kayla finds herself leaning back against her kitchen counter, "She's also been trying to set me up, what is it with you two and my love life?"

"We love you and we don't want to see you alone. You might be a single mother, but that doesn't mean that you're dead. Honey, I know your job is tough, heaven forbid, I don't think I would have had the strength to see the things you do every day and still stay sane, but honey, you don't have to be so damn strong all the time." The other woman gives her a motherly look "Sometimes, it's good to let someone else in and lean on them."

"But it's not just me that I have to think about anymore. Henry and Aedan..."

"Don't use them as an excuse. Those boys want to see you happy, sweetheart. Henry especially doesn't want you to be alone for the rest of your life..." Grace sighs, pulling herself onto a chair at the kitchen counter "That boy is too smart for his own good, sometimes."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Mikayla... is it about what happened to you?" Grace asks quietly

"No..." She responds instantly, not even hesitating "I've dealt with that a long time ago. It's just... say I do let someone in and they end up leaving..." Leaning her elbows on the counter "I'm a big girl, I can handle a broken heart... but how can I even think of putting my two boys through that?"

"All I know- you can't live your life all alone based on 'what if's.'" She places a comforting hand on the younger woman's hand "I truly believe that there is a man out there for you. Someone who will be kind to you and the boys. Who will love you wholeheartedly. Make you laugh. Someone who will support you, complete you. But honey, you're never going to find him unless you open up a little."

"I just... I don't know." Kayla mumbles, staring off into space "It's getting late, you want to have dinner with us?"

Grace shakes her head, climbing off of the chair "Thank you, honey. But Rachel and Danny are coming over. We're going out tonight."

"Alright, have fun. Give Rachel a hug from me."

Ten minutes after Grace leaves, Henry and Aedan come running through the front door, Kayla looks up from the stove "Henry, is the front door locked?"

Her son sighs, eyes rolling towards the heavens, but nods before running over to give her a hug, "Hi mom!" a big smile spreads over his face

"Hey buddy, how was your day?"

"Good, the stables were awesome! Jenny says I'm definitely ready for the show next week..." Her son chews on his bottom lip, taking a step back from her "Mom, will you be there?"

"Buddy, you know that I'll try my best...but..."

"You can't make any promises." He shrugs lightly "I know, it's fine."

"I'm sorry, honey." He shrugs again, sniffing lightly.

She sighs softly "Call Aedan please, dinner is ready."

Later that night, after settling the boys in their room, Kayla crawls up onto her bed. Laying down with a sigh, she grabs a pillow to hug close to her chest, her eyes stare blankly into space. Her thoughts drifting to her earlier conversation with Grace.

She's thought about dating again a few times, but, something always stops her. It's not just the boys, sure they are a big part of it. They depend on her to protect them, especially Aedan. Especially considering her sister just up and left him here. He's fragile. He's scared. And he may hate her, but she still thinks of him as her son. How can she not?

And if anything happened to either one of her boys because of her? She'd never forgive herself.

And the other part... well, Rafael Barba might be infuriating at the _best_ of times... but deep inside she knows there is something more to it. Something she will continue to deny for the rest of her days if she has to.

She's falling for him.

He can never know. No one can. That's why she allows herself to be goaded by him. Perhaps hiding her true feelings behind words of anger and snide comments... maybe, just maybe, that will save her skin... and heart, in the end.

A pounding headache settle behind her eyes and she sighs, turning onto her side before punching her pillow. Demanding sleep claim her.

It adamantly refuses.

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 **A/N: Please let me know what you think? Depending on yay or nay, I will only probably be updating in a few weeks time, after I finished my finals. So yeah.**


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